Never Forget
by clair beaubien
Summary: It can take awhile, but sometimes heroes do get remembered.


"How long is this going to take?" Dean asked. Making a swing through Buffalo to pack away a couple of dangerous objects into Dad's storage area, they were stuck in a traffic jam, blocked by fire trucks and emergency vehicles responding to a house fire.

"They're starting to direct traffic through the parking lot behind that building up there." Sam said. "We should be moving soon."

In another few minutes, they were snaking their way behind a line of traffic through the '_Kleinhan's Music Hall'_ parking lot. They were moving slow, but at least they were moving. Sam had his computer open on his lap, looking for their next hunt. Dean was just looking for the next place to have lunch.

They inched their way past a house with one of those blue '_this spot is important because'_ signs in front of it. Dean had time to read just the first few lines and then they were past it.

"Hey, Sam - look up a guy named Job Hoisington in Buffalo, will you?"

"Why?"

"There was a marker back there, I didn't get to read the whole thing."

Sam gave Dean his best, '_who are you and what have you done with my brother?'_ look.

"You're interested in _history_?"

"No, I'm bored out of my skull trying to get through Buffalo a quarter inch at a time and I just wonder what it said."

Sam rolled his eyes but did some fast typing and in fifteen seconds had the answer,

"It says: '_A hero was born when "Gallant" Job Hoisington sacrificed his life at this location on Dec. 30, 1813. During a battle between Capt. Hull's US Army Militia and British forces with their Native allies, the 51-year old Hoisington single-handedly held back the enemy at what is now the intersection of Porter and Plymouth Aves. Job's fellow militia-men escaped a certain death and Job's family, along with other innocent villagers, were spared the time to flee one of the worst horrors of the war of 1812: the Burning of Buffalo. Job's body was found at this spot in spring 1814, just months before the historic War of 1812 ended.'"_

Dean figured he'd get the '_happy now?'_ face but Sam did some more typing.

"It says he moved here from Vermont and joined the militia during the War of 1812. When the British invaded Buffalo from the Niagara River, they engaged them near here but then two thousand of Hoisington's militia deserted. The few hundred that were left retreated but when they got there, where the marker is, Hoisington decided to stay and hold off the thousand British troops as long as he could while the rest of his company escaped. They didn't put the marker up until 2008."

Then Sam turned back to him, "That about do it for you?" He asked.

Dean gave him a snotty look.

"Yes, thank you Professor Winchester."

Sam smiled and got busy typing again, probably going back to hunt-hunting. But after awhile he gave one of those huffs that Dean recognized as '_need to share this'_,

"What?"

"Just - one guy, holding off a _thousand_ of the enemy, so that everybody else could get to safety. Can you imagine?"

Dean gave a fast glance over to Sam, and thought to himself,

'_Yeah, I can imagine.'_

_

* * *

_

_The Year 2205_

"You sure about this, Father?" Don, the lead engineer on the job asked. He looked around them at the flat, barren, landscape. "I know they moved the cemetery out of here, but - you want to build a church _here_?"

"I want to build the church _exactly_ here." Father said, stabbing his shovel into the ground at his feet. "Trust me, this is the perfect and proper site to build my church. So, begin your soil tests and whatever else you have to do. I want the building to begin as soon as possible."

Don exchanged a look with Leon, second engineer.

"But _why_, Father?" Leon asked.

Father smiled.

"Let's just say a fellow with wings told me to." He said. "Call me when we're ready for the next step."

He walked to his vehicle and drove away.

"Great." Don said. "_A little birdie told him to build here._ Great."

He took the shovel and started digging out the soil samples they'd need to get started evaluating the site. A foot down the shovel hit something that wasn't rock or metal or wood.

"What the -?" He scraped some more soil out of the way and pulled out a flat, square box, made out of an odd material.

"Wow - look at that." Leon said. "My great-grandmother had boxes like this. It's the old way they used to make plastic. It's got to be over a hundred years old. Think somebody put a time capsule here?"

"One way to find out." Don said. He set the box on the ground and pulled the lid off."What is that?" He asked.

"It looks like a homemade historical marker."

_One year later._

Don and Leon attended the dedication of the new church in Lawrence. The crowds were filling the church to capacity and beyond, and they were in the narthex, watching all the people coming.

"Looks like Father knew what he was doing." Leon said. "He got it all done and without owing anybody a dime too."

"Hey, there's that guy again," Don pointed over to the man standing in front of the plaque they'd dug out of the ground, installed in a place of honor on the east wall. "That guy we kept seeing all the while we were building this place. We never did find out who he is."

"Judging from the trench coat and harried look," Leon said "Bet he's Father's accountant."

They laughed and went inside for the service.

On the east wall of the narthex, sealed under archival quality plexiglass, stood a flat square of plaster, inscribed with the handwritten message,

"_On this spot,  
May 2, 2010  
my brother  
Sam Winchester  
stood alone against the malignant enemy.  
One man holding back the entire host of hell.  
He sacrificed himself  
to save  
his family,  
his friends,  
and six billion people he would never meet.  
He is the bravest man I ever knew.  
You'll never remember, but I will never forget.  
Dean Winchester"_

_The End_


End file.
